


Mum

by Laywithmeart



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Busted, Caught in the Act, F/M, mother - Freeform, mum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 03:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laywithmeart/pseuds/Laywithmeart
Summary: It's the early morning of the next day, the pink of the sky promises it to be a beautiful and lovely one, and she's on the move. She'd prepared well last night, packed everything that might be needed, organised everything for a smooth and fast operation.-A short story from Julia's mother POV.





	Mum

**Author's Note:**

> If y'all are wondering where my 'fanfiction game' post is where I asked for prompts, it got deleted. Turns out it's against the rules and I actually got suspended for it. To whoever reported me: thanks, you are no fun.

  
Five full months after the explosion Julia finally got to go home, and rather immediately her daughter had requested some space. She'd thought it to be fairly reasonable as doctors and therapists, then colleagues and that one genuinely concerned bodyguard, David she believes his name is, had flooded her hospital room non-stop for all of that time. And as if such ceaseless commotion wasn't chaotic enough for her rehabilitating only child, she herself had continuously managed to visit during the sparse solitary moments, coming in to check if she was alright and ending up leaving behind a sighing, annoyed and even more drained Julia.

Needless to say, she understands it had been a lot to handle, very much bordering on too much. Julia's need to take back some control, finally gain back some of her independence, is a good sign, it means progress. She truly is glad that particular instinct had made itself known again and yet, doubt washed over her when she walked home the night of the announcement. Julia's request might be entirely justifiable, a guarantee of being fit enough to take care of herself just yet was never included. Knowing her daughter, she won't have to bother waiting to be asked for help, especially when it's actually needed. 

Three dreary and long days on, anxious without any signs or hints from Julia as predicted, she's thinking she should just ask and make sure Julia is comfortable and well despite the fact that it wouldn't be appreciated, she is her mother after all, but she's aware a phonecall would in all likelihood not answer her question; the skills Julia possessed that made her able and suitable for politics —read: ability to conceal or flat-out lie— hadn't abated one bit despite her current state of repose. 

To know means to see with her own eyes, to observe the condition of Julia's health firsthand. Then again, how exactly was she going to do that without stepping on any toes, act without disrespecting her daughter's wishes by the means of parental concern? Paying her an uninvited visit, especially so soon, would just serve to push her further away for longer and is therefore out of the question. 

There is only one approach left she can settle for, a plan she'd finally managed to come up with on this third radio-silent day, but one she's not fond nor proud of for it definitely entails crossing a boundary she wishes not to cross.

*

It's the early morning of the next day, the pink of the sky promises it to be a beautiful and lovely one, and she's on the move. She'd prepared well last night, packed everything that might be needed, organised everything for a smooth and fast operation. 

In and out, that is the idea.

She'll simply take a look around the home, unnoticed, provide the unsolicited but requisite, in case it actually turns out to be requisite. Hopefully, sneak a peek at Julia herself, see how she's holding up. She just needs to make sure she is alright. 

The key slides in without any loud clanging of metal, quiet and quick she tiptoes through the hallway and into the kitchen. It is an absolute mess. It's the first thing that jumps out at her, simply impossible to escape anyone's notice. 

Clothes and blankets are strewn everywhere, used glasses and empty takeout containers litter the coffee table, the pillows on the couch are all flat and in need of a good fluff up, the kitchen island is dirty with spilt wine and all different sorts of crumbs. The entire apartment is in downright disarray.

Good thing she decided to come over.

Not having a lot of time, she tidies and wipes most of it up, gathers the articles of attire in the laundry basket, folds the blankets and is very content to uplift the couch to its former glory with the use of two old but firm hands. 

Moving along the house silent as can be as to not disturb Julia's sleep, she drops the brought essentials off in their designated places. Some basic necessities like toothpaste and shampoo are put in the bathroom, some handy staple foods are added to her fridge and cupboards, including a mammoth-sized portion of that homemade curry she likes so much. Her Julia needs to eat, gain back some muscle and some fat while she's at it too. 

There, now she must have everything she could possibly need, Frances thinks. 

She hears a sudden noise coming from the bedroom. A soft rustle of cotton, a pause, then the squeaking and cracking of a mattress under strain.

She must have woken up. Time to get out of here then. 

Another sound passes the walls of the enclosed space. Some sort of mix between a groan and a gasp. Oh dear, is she having nightmares as she had suffered at the hospital?

Laughter, soft and endearing, echos about the house suddenly. Not a nightmare then. 

Sneaking across the living room to the intermediate hall, she comes at a standstill at the room in question and sees the door ajar. As soon as she takes a look through the crack she regrets this whole mission, getting an eyeful of mid-coital action will do that to you. 

She freezes for a long, long moment, unnerved and stunned. 

There's no pretending it's not what it seems, the movements are too distinguishable. She's glad the sheets are drawn over them, almost completely covering them so she doesn't have to be 'graced' with any visual..., well, _details_. Though, not so glad she recently got herself a hearing aid. 

"David!" 

Ah, the caring bodyguard. Julia announces the identity of her mystery man in the worst way possible for a mum. 

She really needs to leave, right now. 

Taking the food back out of the fridge, she piles and packs everything in bags again. She throws the blankets she had only just carefully folded carelessly back on the floor, dents the couch back to the state of a rubbish second-hand version, spills wine on the clean countertops, feeling like a teenager backwardly creating evidence of a secret house party rather than deleting it.

Last but not least, she takes out the clothes from the laundry basket, only now noticing the men's garments, throws them about and hurriedly leaves the flat. She was never here, she didn't see or hear _anything_. 

On her way back home, she smiles broadly. She's seen the way this David looks at her daughter and there'd been nothing but pure and honest devotion in his eyes, so she dare say she approves. Her girl is alright, she's being taken care of, her girl has found love.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like it! Kudos and comments are truly appreciated a lot.


End file.
